


but you've gone somewhere deeper

by TooSel



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle of Five Armies, Character Death, Descriptions of battle, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Spoilers for BOTFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 13:29:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2350091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooSel/pseuds/TooSel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They hadn't thought it would end like this.<br/>Who was going to save them now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	but you've gone somewhere deeper

**Author's Note:**

> when you fall asleep  
> with your head upon my shoulder  
> when you’re in my arms  
> but you’ve gone somewhere deeper

They hadn't thought it would end like this. The roaring sounds of battle everywhere; people fighting, people screaming, people dying. Enemies and friends, strangers and kin alike. Blood and detached limbs covering the ground they were standing on. Nowhere to go.

It shouldn't have come to this.

They'd expected to fight a dragon, to reclaim their home or die trying, die by the fire of the beast. But not this. Never had they expected that after the dragon had been killed they'd face a new danger, even bigger and much worse than anything they'd anticipated.

No, it should never have come to this. Smaug was dead and by all means they should be in Erebor right now, rebuilding what had been destroyed in the wake of the dragon. Building a solid foundation for their kingdom that was to rise once more in all its splendour and glory. Celebrating the demise of Smaug.

But the beast was dead and still they were fighting, not dead yet but close. And now, at what seemed like the end of all things, where there was no place to run to, nowhere to hide; in the end, it all came down to what had caused all this. One small stone, one single gem with a name as exceptional as the thing itself - the Arkenstone. One beautiful stone, hardly big enough to be seen when you closed your hands around it. One mighty jewel that had them on their knees now, dying.

What a shock it had been when Bilbo had taken the stone and given it to the Elves. An act none of them had anticipated. Thorin, shaken by the betrayal, blinded by fury and the sickness he didn't realise had made a home in his mind, had almost thrown Bilbo down the mountain then and there. Shortly after, all hell had broken loose. And now there was nothing but fighting, killing, moving faster than the enemy. Surviving, for however long.

It was hours into the battle, and Thorin wasn't sure whose fault this whole mess was anymore. He'd been convinced that the halfling had brought this upon them. But now, countless wounds and dead soldiers later, the smell of gore clouding his mind, he really did not know anymore. He knew nothing. He'd seen the hobbit move along the battlefield, fight with that little sword of his – fight for the dwarves he'd so easily betrayed. Not just once had Thorin seen Bilbo almost get killed from the corner of his eye, and after a few times he'd realised that despite everything, he was scared. Scared for Bilbo like he was for his nephews, his cousins, his company. He didn't want to lose another person. He couldn't, not even the one who'd broken his trust so frivolously.

Thorin's body hurt with every move and it just didn't seem to end. The wounded soldiers and dead bodies on the ground beneath him were piercing his mind, taking up all the space in his head. Whose fault was this? Perhaps it was Bilbo's, perhaps it was the Elves'. Mahal knew, maybe it even was his own. The Arkenstone's. But the damage was done now, and maybe no one was at fault, and it didn't matter anymore anyway. There was nothing for it. It was stand and fight, do or die.

Dying looked like a likely possibility, Thorin thought as he saw another group of orcs arriving. Fili, who'd been fighting together with his brother a bit farther away turned his head when he heard his uncle scream for backing. Without another thought he finished off the orc in front of him and started running, yelling for his brother to follow. Thorin was already surrounded by three white orcs, screaming furiously as he took on them at once. Panic rushed through Fili's guts as his attention was drawn to who seemed to be the leader; arriving at the scene on his warg. A white orc with only one arm. A sardonic grin on his face, his focus laid entirely on the king.

"Azog," Fili breathed out, his heart stopping in his chest. He watched as the orc descended from his warg and approached Thorin with a calm that was more terrifying than any outburst of emotion could be.

Fili was pulled out of his rigid state when he heard a battle cry right behind him. Kili, who had followed him and now saw Azog heading towards their uncle, still unaware of the orc approaching him, was running to Thorin and shooting arrows at the enemies he was fighting. Fili shook off the horror and followed him, his sword gripped tightly, ready to be swung once more.

"Uncle!“ they yelled simultaneously as they ran to his side. Thorin's head snapped around when he heard them screaming, reflexively reacting to the voices he knew so well. His nephews had reached his side and immediately took on the orcs around them.

Thorin caught his breath for a moment and was about to join his nephews when Kili shook his head fiercely and yelled something incomprehensible. He turned to see what he was looking at, only to catch sight of what he'd believed for so long he'd never have to see again.

Azog was not far from him, approaching him steadily, smiling as he saw that Thorin had finally noticed him. The curl of his mouth made Thorin's blood run cold. He thought that this must be what his nephews had rushed to him for; to eliminate the enemies he'd been fighting so he could focus on the one that mattered the most. So he could finish what had started so long ago. And he was tired now. So tired. It was time, time to get to the end. With a deep breath and his head held high despite every wound he'd suffered, he gripped Orcrist tightly and started moving.

He was so focused on the pale orc before him that he blocked out the battle around them, so the orc attacking him from the side almost caught him off guard. Almost.

He spun around and hit the creature with his sword, just in time to ward his ax. It turned into a fight Thorin didn't have time for. The thought of Azog coming closer, killing him from behind made for a panic in his guts he could not be dealing with right now. The fear of being attacked, the uncertainty prickled at the back of his neck. Giving the orc before him the final stack, he turned around to face Azog-

The Elves had reached him first. Azog didn't even flinch when the small group of fighters approached him. He let out a roaring scream, something in his own kind's language, and Thorin's blood rustled in his ears as he saw the shadows of even more orcs coming up behind Azog, following his call. They outnumbered the elvish soldiers by far. This was going to end in more blood, and not the kind he wished for. Even if it meant losing sight of Azog for a moment, Thorin had to act. Destroy the immediate threat before it got the chance to do the same to him. Now. With a scream he leapt into battle.

Thorin's battle cry startled Fili like he'd been hit in the face. The air was filled with screams and voices, but he could make out his uncle, the one he'd looked up to and followed from the moment he could walk, followed still, everywhere. He hadn't realised how far Thorin had gotten away. This wasn't right. Fili had set out to defend him, save his life by giving his own if he had to. And he couldn't do that from where he was standing.

With a new rush of adrenaline he finished off the orc he'd distracted from his uncle and turned around, scanning the scene before him. Seeing the new orcs arriving, Fili moved forward to aid the Elves, fighting his body's exhaustion, while Kili moved further and further away from him in an attempt to shoot the enemies approaching from the westside of the field before they could reach his uncle. And his brother. When he turned to look where he was, panic swept over him as he couldn't see him anymore.

"Fili!“ he yelled, his heart pounding heavily. He only just made out his uncle's dark figure - and there, thank Mahal, his brother running towards him - when his attention was caught by an orc attacking him.

 

Fili was utterly lost in the battle he was fighting. Finish one orc, take on another. There seemed to be no end to this. He desperately tried to keep up with the scene, catch everything that was happening around him, but he was lost. He ached for his brother, the questions he didn't allow himself to think, _is he alright? Is he alive?_ , pulsing at the back of his mind. He feared for his uncle. He didn't care for himself in that moment, no space left for that in him; not when his heart was aching so badly with this sickening worry.

He screamed, he realised now; he'd screamed all that time, it eased the pain, kept him in the moment. Told them all that he was still here. Still fighting. Not yet dead.

Killing the orc before him, already reaching out to the next threat, he suddenly realised something had changed. It'd gotten quieter. He looked around, not daring to put his sword down, taking in what he was surrounded with for the first time. Most of the orcs were dead, at least here. He didn't know what it looked like further away on the battlefield, where Kili was.

His chest hurt as he drew a deep breath, looking up – and catching his uncle's eye. Thorin was standing not ten feet away, also breathing heavily, taking in his nephew's state, shock and pain written on his face, but also gratitude. The same thing Fili felt now, looking at his uncle, bruised and bloody and in a worse condition than he'd ever seen him in. But he was alive. They both stood and looked, taking in the fact that they'd made it to this moment, all too aware that it could end any second. None of them could find their voice, fearing that saying something out loud would shatter the moment, destroy it like fragile glass; broken, never to be repaired.

Behind Fili, something was happening. He saw it in the way his uncle stiffened, straightened his shoulders as he looked right past him, tightened his grip on Orcrist. He didn't turn around to see what was coming. He'd face it soon enough. He needed that one moment of stillness, the most peace one could find in the middle of a battlefield. For all it was worth.

Thorin's gaze returned to his nephew's face, searching for answers to questions he didn't say out loud. Fili straightened his back and nodded curtly, signaling him he was ready to go again. Then his face hardened. Behind Thorin, Azog had resurfaced, killed the last two Elves standing, ready to finish what he'd come for. Fili looked at his uncle, opened his mouth to warn him- and saw in Thorin's eyes that he already knew. There was a silent understanding, an unspoken conversation passing between them.  _Are you alright? - No. Are you? - Doesn't matter. This needs to end, now. - So do it. I have your back._

They looked at each other for one more moment, gathering their strength, making promises with no words at all. A firm nod, one last look lingering on each other's eyes for a mere second, then they both turned around with a scream, raising their swords to face the enemy.

 

Kili danced around the bodies on the ground, gathering the arrows he'd just shot, thankful for the little moment of calmness. His leg hurt more than any other part of his battered body, though he'd never admit it. He'd stand here and fight for as long as his legs would carry him. And then he'd shoot his arrows from the ground. But for now, for this very moment, the immediate threat was removed.

He refilled his bow quiver and rubbed his leg, then, upon realising it wouldn't do any good he straightened and searched the large field for his brother. And rushed to his aid the second he caught sight of him, surrounded by another group of orcs, fighting several at once. Too many. There was no end to this.

Kili ran to the mob, firing arrows at the first orcs he saw, desperately trying to get them away from Fili. They were now but a few metres apart; closer than before but not close enough. Kili was aching to call his brother and get him to look at him, see that he was still alive, still standing, not giving up yet... and almost fell when an orc threw himself at him. He gritted his teeth and reached for his sword, hurled himself onto the creature and stabbed it until it finally stopped moving.

Kili looked up, ready for the next threat – except there was none. He frowned and got up from the dead body beneath him while looking around, seeing his brother fighting the last orc of the group, seeing him turning around in fear to look for their uncle, to see if he'd defended him well enough-

And watched in slow motion as the orc's sword drove right through Fili, through that one spot his armour didn't shield, and he could _feel_ the sting, though the rational part of his brain was telling him that _he_  wasn't the one being killed, but he was, in a way, wasn't he, and he fell to his knees- no, that was Fili, and though he didn't know where his brother ended and he began he knew he had to reach him, get to him before it was too late- 

Everything was shifting though Kili wasn't moving at all, unable to get his legs to work, follow his instructions. Just looking at his brother. Fili seemed to remain still for a split moment, seemingly uncomprehending, shifting ever so slightly back and forth, until the realisation seemed to seep in and he fell backwards with a finality that made Kili's heart stop before giving him the kick he needed to wake from his stillness. The dull thud of his brother's body hitting the ground echoed in his ears, sounding like a death sentence, and surely that's what it was; if there was no Fili, how could he--

The arrow piercing his torso took his breath away, leaving him still, catching him off guard. So focused on the battle inside him, he'd forgotten there was a real one around him. He took a staggering step forward, then another, crying out when pain shot through his back. His breath quickened as panic flooded him; he had to reach his brother _now_ , get to him before he--

The impact of the second arrow piercing him finally made him loose his balance; he fell to his knees, welcoming the hardness, the about only steady thing he could hold on to right now. He didn't try to get up again, knowing it was futile, so he gathered his strength and started crawling on all fours instead.

Kili's heart beat so heavily in his chest that he thought it might jump out. He scratched his hands as he carried himself towards his brother, not caring about the wounds, not even thinking about the arrows stuck in his back. He reached Fili's body, breathing so hard he thought he might pass out from the exhaustion. For a moment he thought he'd been too slow; his brother lay too still, and up close he could see how much blood had been leaking from the wound. His heart sank.

"Fili," he whispered, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. He clutched his chest, shaking him softly. "Fili. Wake up.“

A sob escaped him when he didn't move. He pulled himself half on top of his brother, gripping his body tightly, shaking him harder.

" _Fili,"_  he said again, trembling. "Come on. Please, wake up. Wake up. I'm here.“

He could feel himself getting weaker, his own wounds taking their toll. His vision blurred. For a second he thought he'd hallucinated, but then he saw Fili's eyelids fluttering again. Kili blinked his tears away desperately. A moment later his brother opened his eyes, looking around without focus until he found Kili's face. His features twisted into something Kili didn't recognise at first, or didn't understand; he looked relieved, grateful. He moved his lips silently, as though he was seeking the right words, but Kili knew he tried to gather his strength to say something. He put a hand to his brother's head and soothingly ran his fingers through his hair, moving his face closer to his. Fili remained silent for a second, then a word escaped his lips.

"..alive.“ Kili felt the tears welling up again as he nodded and confirmed with a tremor in his voice, "Yes, I am. I'm alive. I'm here, Fili.“

Fili gave him the smallest of smiles, looking almost content. "Good.“

His eyes closed, then opened again. Kili thought it might be for the last time. He was trembling now, and Kili knew it took him every bit of strength he had left to say these last words.

"Your promise," he mumbled, and he gripped Kili's arm surprisingly tight. "To Amad. You keep it, alright? You keep your promise...“

His eyes shut at the last word and his body stilled. When Kili felt his grip loosen, he knew it was over.

He hadn't even had enough time to say anything. To tell a lie and make another promise he couldn't keep now. To say goodbye.

Something inside Kili broke; irrevocably, irreparably. He couldn't hold back the sob that came from somewhere deep down his chest as he rested his head on his brother's shoulder and wept, for it was all he could do. A part of him, a small part that didn't seem to belong to the rest of him anymore, that was just cold now, absently noted that at least he wouldn't have to live with this pain for long. He didn't think he could, either way.

So when he felt himself lose consciousness and everything faded to black as the life left his body, his brother being the last thing he'd seen in this world- it was a relief.

 

Not far off from where the two brothers rested, Thorin and Azog were finally confronted, fighting their last battle. Not much time had passed, though seconds could feel like hours and hours like minutes on a battlefield. Thorin knew he could not hold on much longer. He'd been doing this for too long, was now on the edge of utter exhaustion. He'd almost gone down under Azog's fury more than once in this fight. And he couldn't rely on his nephews, or anyone, swooping in to save his life again. He had to finish this, on his own. Finish it soon. Before Azog finished him first.

And the opportunity, what might be the last and only one he'd ever get, was now.

Thorin took a deep breath, made a silent prayer to Mahal, held Orcrist tightly and struck out the sword. Then he rammed it into the pale orc's body as hard as he could.

First, he thought he'd failed. Azog looked at him, clearly not having expected the manoeuvre, but otherwise not showing any signs of defeat. Then, very slowly, he turned his gaze down. Thorin followed his eyes and they both watched as blood leaked from the fresh wound. Azog's face twisted into something cruel as the realisation hit him, he reached for his weapon- and fell.

Thorin's ears rang. He stepped closer quietly and looked down on his enemy, defeated at last. This time he watched as he died.

Adrenaline was still rushing through his body like a drug, the only thing keeping him upright. The few moments until Azog was dead felt like an eternity. When he was sure he was nothing more than a dead body Thorin breathed out; really, properly breathed, for what felt like the first time in months. He lingered over the dead body for a bit longer, then he turned around, feeling weirdly lighthearted. The battle was still going on around him. But, for the first time, it actually seemed like it would have an end, too.

Thorin took in the scene, the soldiers fighting not too far away, in search of his nephews. They shouldn't be far, at least Fili shouldn't; he'd been right behind Thorin, dutifully shielding him and defending his life, and usually where there was Fili, Kili wasn't far either.

Thorin started walking, still looking for the two. Then he stopped dead in his tracks.

An unnatural cold seemed to crawl down his spine as he stood still, trying to understand what it was he saw. It couldn't be.

It couldn't.

Thorin felt his insides twisting as he approached the two bodies on the ground, one lying half on top of the other, the dizziness in his head as he tried to shake the memories that were flooding his mind now, pictures that hurt too much to think about. Holding Kili in his arms for the first time, Fili watching over him protectively. Their big eyes when they'd sat next to each other in bed, listening to Thorin's tales of Erebor. Fili learning how to fight with a sword, Kili watching eagerly from the side. The two of them helping their mother in the kitchen, laughing as they threw flour at each other. Both of them volunteering for the quest to reclaim their homeland, a home they'd never known, one they'd also never know now-

Always together. United still. Even in death.

Everything inside him turned cold, and he almost wished back the dizziness, because  _this_ , this now was perfect clarity, and it  _hurt,_ by Mahal, how it hurt him to even breathe-

Was this not his fault? All of this, had he not brought them to Erebor, would they not still be laughing and breathing and _live_? Had he not been so terribly fixated on the Arkenstone, the damned jewel that'd brought them all to their knees now, had he not chosen this war over peace - wouldn't they still be alive?

Fili, his heir, the lionheart, the one who'd been a brother to Kili in all the right ways, who, despite his youth, had been ready to be a king long before he'd had a throne, the one who'd never get to be king now.

Kili, the second prince, the sun, Kili who'd only just recovered from his leg injury, who shouldn't have been anywhere near a battlefield at all.

His nephews who were just too young to be gone. Who'd been so fierce in battle, so eager to shield him with their bodies and defend him with their lives-

Who was going to save them now? Who was going to save him?

 

He didn't see the arrow coming. He hadn't heard the orcs moving closer. He didn't feel anything as the sharp head pierced him. It was only when his legs gave out and he fell to his knees - and how fitting that was, he thought, on his knees before the bodies of his lifeless nephews - that he felt the pain. He knew what it meant. That this was the beginning of his end, after all this time, all the failed attempts, this was it now. The end.

He was glad for it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for the Hobbit fandom, I felt comfortable enough to write the characters now, but I'm still unsure about a few things (mostly Thorin and how badly the sickness shows exactly, and when. I believe that during the battle it's already withdrawing). So any honest and constructive criticism is more than welcome.  
> English isn't my native language and this is unbeta'd. I'm sorry for any mistakes!


End file.
